A wacky writer's journal.

Two Syllables

They were warm, cheerful and
prettily light-eyed.
But people defined them in only two syllables.
They were known to be very different,
And strongly disliked for sins assumed.

They were blamed frequently
When death threatened lives.
They were doubted at every terminal,
When their names were called aloud.

One horrific day, terror broke loose.
This time, several light-eyes succumb to wounds.
The eyes shut forever in a last blink,
Orphaning several innocent wombs.

People wept in misery,
Cursed in wrath.
Prayed in silence,
And sought answers in pain.

Their grief, anger and tears,
Churned out an unanimous emotion.
This time, the world saw its reflection in them,
Images that were always omnipresent.

People now saw light-eyes of innocence and fear,
A crave to live in peace and a wish to be truly loved.
They were always human, so much more than those two syllables.
Sadly, it took a tragedy to surface humanity.